“For many years I have been comfortable with this consulting arrangement. My French clients didn’t ask much of me. But I will admit”—there was a sharpness in his voice that surprised me—“that recently it has become more difficult. I have felt much more pressure from them on … various subjects.” His voice trailed off.

“Like the China communications contract.”

“Yes. Like that. And it has made me feel very uncomfortable. And since we are being frank with each other tonight, it made me especially uncomfortable when my French friends pressured me recently to stop publication of your article about this New Asia company. What I particularly didn’t like was that they threatened me—like a bunch of gangsters—when I refused to intervene in the editorial process. That made me angry, and it also frightened me. But I wasn’t sure what I could do about it. That is the problem, you see, when you get caught up in something that has been going on for a long time. You aren’t sure how to unwind it. And what I am afraid of, Eric, is that the pressure is about to become more intense.”

“Why is that?” He was so trusting now. His whole face had relaxed, now that he had dropped the mask of rectitude.

“Because I have been invited to a conference next month in Beijing by my clients. It’s a commitment that is difficult to escape. Every spring a French businessman named Alain Peyron sponsors a symposium on global economic issues. I’m sure you’ve heard of him, he runs Unetat. He’s another old friend, for better or worse, and he’s very close to my lawyer friend Bézy. Usually he holds his sessions in places like Davos, or Aspen, or Martinique, and usually I give a brief speech for which I am very handsomely paid. But this year Peyron decided to hold a special session on the future of the communications industry in Asia. He scheduled it deliberately a few weeks before the Chinese will announce the winner of the communications contract. It’s his show, a chance to wave the French flag. And he will expect me to help, in ways that I cannot predict. I feel very uncomfortable about it, but I don’t know what to do.”

This was a strange moment for me. The intimidating figure of Arthur Bowman had become soft, needy—almost childlike. He was caught in something he couldn’t control, and he was asking me for help. Sometimes, in moments like this, we reverse roles with our elders. We become the caregivers, they become the dependents. But we need their permission.

“Do you really want my help in escaping from all this?”